


Thu Rep

by sinamour



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:26:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3810364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinamour/pseuds/sinamour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tetsuya summons the Dung Beetle for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thu Rep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Houdidoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houdidoo/gifts).



> Written for Rarepair 2015. 
> 
> This fic is based on houdidesu priestess!au, and has incorporated certain Vietnamese mythological figures, i.e. Ngoc Hoang and Thu Rep. Briefly:
> 
> “Originally Ngoc Hoang wanted human beings to live forever by shedding their skins and rejuvenating themselves when they reached old age. He dispatched the god Thu Rep to the Earth to teach humanity how to do this. By mischance along his way, Thu Rep found himself surrounded by deadly snakes, who intimidated the cowardly deity into teaching the secret of rejuvenation by skin-shedding to them instead of to human beings. When Ngoc Hoang learned how Thu Rep had cost people their chance at immortality he exiled him from the heavens and transformed him into the insects called Dung Beetles as punishment.” (extracted from http://glitternight.com/vietnamese-myth/)

There’s a whistle in the wind, a quiet sigh from the lake that hitches Tetsuya in his reading and raises his head from the parchments that are spread over his lap and blanket. It alerts Chihiro as well – this sudden silence – but he doesn’t comment; merely twists over from where he’s been combing his Priestess’ hair – long and longer than is appropriate for a boy, but obligatory for a Priestess – to watch his younger charge for further instruction.

He has been with Tetsuya long enough for him to recognise the preoccupied look on his face – knows that there is a divine missive weaved into every stroke of nature, waiting only for the right time to reveal itself to the rightful ones, and that Tetsuya has been selected for one out of the many billions of billions that exists out there.

Once, Chihiro would have pressured and threatened him for the details –

(“ _How the hell do you expect me to protect you if I know nothing about the harm that may come to you?!”_

_“Just like how all the previous Guardians protected the previous Priestesses.”_

_“Well, none of the previous Priestesses were suicidal assholes!”_

_“Just as none of the previous Guardians were impatient whiners.”_ )

– but Tetsuya is a persistent teacher where it matters, and Chihiro can be persuaded to agreement if given reasonable rationale. It’s trust that stops Chihiro from reaching over to catch lax fingers now, demanding for an explanation; and dedication that keeps him by Tetsuya’s side in spite of the guarded secrets.

When he does reach out, though, it’s because Tetsuya’s eyes have grown wet, and Chihiro has promised, ever since that one time, that he’d never let his Priestess cry without a hand to catch his tears.

"Such sorrowful tears," he whispers, voice hoarse and wavering from an earlier bout of cough, rubbing the dampness into Tetsuya's pale cheeks just to watch it redden a little.

His Priestess has always been far too pale for his liking; Tetsuya's deceptive frailty has made dismissive and disrespectful audiences a common thing during his reign, and while the Priestess himself doesn't seem to mind it much, Chihiro is a possessive, protective bastard once he has claimed something as his. It irks him that Tetsuya has to constantly strive to prove himself before he is accepted for his worth - never mind that he himself had been just as bad, if not worse.

"Is it something that will hurt you this much?" Chihiro asks again when Tetsuya doesn't answer, nuzzling into his hand instead. His hair, unruly as always, falls into his face and sticks against the wet patch that Chihiro had smeared, but neither of them move to push it away.

It takes the boy another extended period of silence, catching Chihiro’s hand to press a kiss against the rough, prominent jut of his knuckles, before he finally looks into his companion’s eyes with a watery smile.

“Yes. It will.”

Tetsuya will never lie to his Guardian.

-

That night, Tetsuya curls close to his Guardian, head on thin chest that wheezes with every breath that Chihiro takes. If Chihiro is bothered by any moisture seeping in through his shirt, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he buries fingers into soft hair and pats the boy into slow slumber.

-

“Mayuzumi-kun,” Tetsuya calls two days later, quiet and tranquil, gliding into his Guardian’s room in his official Priestess regalia and settling beside Chihiro without any fuss. It’s only after he’s arranged himself comfortably, properly tucked into Chihiro’s side, that the Guardian questions the unexpected attire.

“I don’t recall there being any kind of ceremony today. Is it my faulty memory again?” Chihiro frowns, running a hand through the Tetsuya’s floral headgear and arranging it to meet his personal standards. He’s tired already, even when it’s barely past morning; but then again, he’s always tired these days. He hates that his fingers tremble when he touches Tetsuya’s temple, smoothing fine hair back from the Priestess’ youthful expression; but if Tetsuya chooses to say nothing, then Chihiro, too, won’t comment on it.

“It was only one time, Mayuzumi-kun,” Tetsuya replies with a sigh, shaking his head and twisting around to let his companion play with his hair. “Cut yourself some slack.”

“Yes, well… perhaps I really should,” Chihiro concurs obediently, his tone docile even as his fingers instinctively, deftly part Tetsuya’s hair to weave into a rope of braids – before he pulls a cutting grin and mocking raise of his eyebrow, and asks, “Then what of your own self, then?”

It doesn’t take long for Tetsuya realise that he’s let himself be caught in his companion’s verbal ruse again; Chihiro has a fondness for luring Tetsuya into making statements before turning the tables by using it back on him. It’s irritating, especially when Tetsuya fails to find a loophole to win the argument, but it’s also Chihiro’s way of showing care, and Tetsuya cannot begrudge it of him.

“You think that I can’t feel the way you’ve been affected since two days ago? Just because my eyesight isn’t what it used to be doesn’t mean that I can’t sense you anymore –

Or do you really think that I _am_ that stupid? In which case, then I think you need to remind yourself why I’m your Guardian.”

“Mayuzumi-kun is as caustic in his reminders as usual,” Tetsuya merely replies, drawing away from his companion to tend to the tea set that had been set beside the bed, uncaring that his half-done braid is unravelling into messy strands once more. Even he knows when to give in when the situation is clearly not in his favour because Chihiro can be a bastard about nailing his points in.

"I wouldn't want you to think that I've softened with time. It’ll be a blow to my reputation."

“Your reputation’s horrible to begin with, okay,” Tetsuya counters blandly as he pours out fragrance into separate cups and carefully helps Chihiro wrap his fingers around one.

“You’re missing my point,” Chihiro insists, “I’m supposed to be terrifying and difficult to approach, not soft and cuddly like you. Why else do you think I’ve spent all those time looking menacing?"

“You’re my Guardian; you’re supposed to be kind, not menacing,” Tetsuya counters, and then pauses before adding, petulantly, “Also, I’m not soft and cuddly.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure you’re not,” Chihiro agrees carelessly, raising his cup to sip from it. “But for real, I’m not forgetting any summoning ceremony, am I? You ought to let me know earlier if I were, then I could prepare and assist you in your work.”

Tetsuya stares straight into his Guardian’s eyes and nods.

“No, Mayuzumi-kun. I just have to hold some official meetings, is all.”

No, Tetsuya will never lie to his Guardian.

(but he does.)

-

Tetsuya returns that evening, half an hour into sunset, and there is a full moon that is starting to claim a patch of the darkening sky - one spot at a time.

“Wow, you look horrible? Did you fail at negotiation so badly that they all trampled over you?” Chihiro comments from the bed the moment he looks up, a frown on his face when he lays eyes on his charge. It irritates him, though, that Tetsuya doesn’t rise to his taunt - merely roots himself by the threshold of the door to stare in instead, and it’s a clear sign that something must have happened to upset the boy this much.

He begins to rise from the bed, but stops when Tetsuya snaps at him, sharp and demanding, “Stay there. I’ll come to you. ”

“Brat. What makes you think you have the right to command me like that,” Chihiro counters, waspish,  because hey, who the hell does Tetsuya think he is?

But there is also a smidgen of relief because Chihiro isn’t sure – as hard-headed as he is – that he can really climb all the way out of bed and cross over to the boy. Even shifting himself closer to the edge of the bed has seemed to sap all his energy away.

He says nothing when Tetsuya finally closes the gap between them and bends down to readjust Chihiro comfortably against his pillows, but flinches when his Priestess presses a gentle touch to the corner of his left eye, lingering and nostalgic. He holds still in the beginning, obedient, when Tetsuya traces a sentimental line down the side of his face –

But pulls away abruptly when Tetsuya’s finger reaches the sharp of his cheeks –

Because he is suddenly ashamed of all the crinkles and creases that had developed on his face –

Because time has given him so much but has taken away so much too –

Because Tetsuya is in front of him, and has never aged a day since so many years ago –

And Chihiro wants to laugh and cry at the same time because he thought that he’d been ready for this since a long time ago, when Tetsuya had spoken to him about mortality, immortality, and love – and Chihiro remembers clearly what he’d said all those years ago.

“Don’t look away, Mayuzumi-kun.” Contrary to the stormy look that is in Tetsuya’s eyes, his voice is calm and unwavering, and Chihiro cannot help but to draw strength from it. When he does look back, it’s to drown in Tetsuya’s determined smile, and Chihiro wants nothing more than to press forward and push a kiss against supple lips, but how can he – when his own lips are chapped and wrinkled and dry?

Except Tetsuya kisses him first – slow and languid – and asks, still infuriatingly unruffled and composed, “Will you comb my hair for me once more?”

And Chihiro swallows a sob to nod, knowing what is to come now.

“You’re such an idiot, Kuroko. Do you even need to ask?”

-

Chihiro’s pearl comb falls from his limp fingers during their fourth round of smoothing rebellious curls, and Tetsuya doesn’t find it until three weeks later, solitary and forsaken.

-

_Tetsuya grips the knife, slippery with his blood, and holds his ground even as he feels the area fill with sanctity. Thu Rep isn’t a dominant god, but even so, the summoning has drained a chunk of his reservoir of energy - especially since he has to do it without Chihiro’s protection. It makes him feel naked and exposed, and he knows that there is danger that lurks to harm him in his most vulnerable times._

_But Tetsuya has to - is willing to risk it - for the sake of his Guardian because as much as his life is revolves around protecting and sustaining his people, it is also a love story between a Priestess and his Guardian._

_From this, he drew strength; and so Thu Rep emerges to find a resolute, strong-willed boy who is willing to stare him down_

_“The great deity, Thu Rep,” Tetsuya begins, “I humbly beseech you to teach me the secret of immortality that the Grand God has entrusted to you._

_Will you guide me?”_


End file.
